by Molly Green
‘I certainly do, Alan.’ June gave his arm a playful tap. She knew she was flouting the rules of the home in two ways. First in calling him ‘Alan’ – she always addressed the children by their Christian names – and secondly in laying an affectionate hand on his arm. She wouldn’t have got away with either if Matron had been on duty, she thought grimly. But it wasn’t favouritism: it was simply acknowledging that each child was an individual – and appreciating their qualities. What was so dreadful about that?
She remembered when she was little and had fallen off her tricycle. Her mother had gathered her up in her arms, and June’s head had rested on her bosom, drawing in the spicy perfume her mother always wore. She could feel this very minute her mother’s fingers running through her hair, and her mother saying, ‘Hush, Junie, everything’s fine. You’ll soon be back on it again.’ June wanted the children to have that kind of love from her. The others at Dr Barnardo’s were too busy nursing them or teaching them. She was the one who had a more flexible job and time to hug them and comfort them. But Matron had warned her more than once that the boys would grow up cissies with such behaviour.
‘Where’s Lizzie?’ June asked. ‘Is she where I left her an hour ago?’
‘She’s forgotten all about me.’ Alan shrugged. ‘As soon as Doris and Daisy said she could play with them she stuck to them like glue. If anyone can get her to speak, they will.’
‘I’m glad they’ve taken her under their wing. They’re all girls together.’
The doorbell jangled, making her jump. June glanced at the hall clock. Half-past eight. It would be the milkman and he’d want paying. She heard one of the maids open the door, and was about to tell her that Matron would be back shortly and sort out his bill when she stopped in her tracks.
‘I’ve come to see Miss Lavender.’
She knew that voice. Strong. Masculine. Warm. Her pulse quickened. She’d tried so hard to dream him up and here he was. She put her hands to her hair, pulled out her tortoiseshell comb and pushed it in again as she tried to catch some stray wisps, but it wasn’t easy without a mirror. Oh, well, he’d have to take her as she was.
‘Hello, Murray.’ To her ears, her voice didn’t sound quite steady.
‘Junie.’ Murray’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. ‘I wanted to see you. I’ve got something to show you.’ He took his cap off. ‘Is it a good time to come in for a few minutes?’ He stepped in the hall without waiting for her answer.
She heard a tiny sound coming from Murray’s chest. He opened his coat and tucked inside was a shiny brown bundle. She gasped as two golden eyes opened.
‘Murray?’ Her voice came out in a squeak.
‘Yes, it’s what you think it is,’ Murray laughed. ‘But it’s not for you – it’s for Lizzie.’
‘Lizzie? But we’re not allowed animals in the home.’
‘I’m hoping your dragon will make Freddie an exception. It’s Lizzie’s Christmas present. I think it will help her. He’ll be her special friend. I was an only child until my parents gave me a puppy and from there on I had the best friend in the world.’ He grinned. ‘I told you I’d come up with something – so I have. What do you think?’ He opened a few more buttons and put a trembling little creature in her arms.
‘Oh, Murray, he’s gorgeous.’ June’s eyes were misty as she stroked the puppy’s silky head and floppy ears. ‘But I’ll have to hide him.’ She looked at Murray, her eyes anxious. ‘I presume it’s a him.’
‘Yes, it’s a boy. The last in the litter. He’s come from the landlady in our local pub – she asked if anyone would take him but no one volunteered. I suddenly thought of Lizzie. He’s rather small but he’s a bright little fellow. I think he and Lizzie are going to get along just fine.’
Footsteps made June turn round guiltily. It was Iris. June breathed a sigh of relief. She knew Iris would keep a secret. But how could she hide a puppy?
‘Oh, it’s Murray Andrews,’ Iris said, extending her hand. ‘Nice to see you again.’
‘And you,’ Murray said, smiling, shaking hands.
‘What have you got there? Oh, don’t say it’s a puppy. Matron won’t have it, you know.’
‘It’s for Lizzie,’ June said defensively. ‘Murray thinks it will help her if she has a companion. His name is Freddie.’
‘I don’t hold out any hope of Matron allowing him to stay,’ Iris said, ‘but it’s a nice idea.’ She glanced at the puppy again. ‘He is sweet though.’
‘Maybe he’ll soften even Matron’s hard heart,’ June said tentatively.
‘I think you’re pushing your luck there’ was Iris’s reply. ‘Anyway, got to go. Hope to see you soon, Murray.’ She threw the words over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got three children who’ve all come down with a suspicious rash. I need to telephone the doctor.’ She dashed off.
‘Will Iris keep a secret?’ Murray asked as Iris disappeared.
‘Iris will, but sooner or later someone’s bound to mention it to Matron.’ June put the quivering warm bundle back into Murray’s hands. ‘I’ll see if Bertie has a scrap of chicken or something we can give him. And I need to find a box. Can you wait here for a moment? I shan’t be a minute.’
‘Where is Matron at the moment?’ Murray said as he tucked Freddie back under his coat.
‘Right here,’ said a harsh voice from behind June.
June swung round, her heart in her throat. Where had Matron sprung from? How much had she seen and heard?
‘And I’d very much like to know who this young man is and what he’s doing here.’
‘Matron, may I introduce Flight Lieutenant Andrews. He’s a pilot from the RAF station at Speke.’
Matron’s expression immediately changed. She let her eyebrows drop back into position and her mouth relax, and almost made a curtsey. June bit back a smile. The woman was obviously a little in awe of his rank. She only hoped Freddie would keep perfectly still and not make a sound.
To her delight Murray treated Matron to his most charming smile. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs—’
‘Mrs Pherson.’ Matron held out her hand. ‘So you’re helping to win the war?’
‘I’m doing my best,’ Murray said, shaking her hand. ‘We all are.’
‘When’s all this trouble coming to an end?’
‘No one knows. But we’re going to do everything we can, and now the Americans are coming it should speed things up a bit.’
‘Not before time.’ Matron’s lips pursed. ‘I don’t know why we got ourselves into it in the first place.’ She tutted, raising her eyes to the rafters. ‘Well, I must be getting along. I’ve been away and I expect everything’s in turmoil. Rules not kept, children running wild’ – she turned to June and glared – ‘but I’m back now, in good time for Christmas, as I told you.’ She gave Murray a nod, then said to June, ‘Please bring me a cup of tea in my office in five minutes.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘No, give me ten. Then you can tell me all the news since I’ve been away.’
The moment she left the hall June whispered, ‘Freddie can’t stay here. I’ll never be able to keep a puppy quiet.’
As though Freddie heard her, June saw a twitching under Murray’s coat and a small muffled whine. Poor little thing must be almost suffocating. And doubtless hungry. She noticed a small trail of liquid dribble out of the bottom of Murray’s coat.
‘I think Freddie’s just made a mistake,’ she said, her teeth gripping her bottom lip as she tried not to laugh.
‘What?’ Murray laid a comforting hand over the contour where the puppy was hidden. ‘Oh, I think I know what he’s done.’ His grin faded. ‘June, I can’t take him back. He’s too young. Needs attention like a baby. And I’m hardly ever there these days. He’ll be safer and happier with you and Lizzie.’
June stood still for about thirty seconds. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘But if I get the sack you’ll have to find me a job at the camp.’ She kept a straight face. ‘Washing up or something.’
‘Delighted to,�
� Murray said, grinning, but looking visibly relieved.
‘I’d better take him upstairs to my bedroom.’ June held out her arms and Murray put the quivering creature in them again. Freddie licked her hand.
‘I’ll be off then, so I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas.’ Murray put his cap on, then raised it, winked at her and said under his breath, ‘I’ll write to you.’ He hesitated. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot. I knew there was something else. May I?’ He pointed to her overall pocket.
June nodded, wanting him to disappear before they got into serious trouble.
He placed a small lumpy package wrapped in Christmas paper in her top pocket and left by the door he’d come in. June rushed upstairs with Freddie in her arms as quiet as a toy dog. Thankfully, there was no one on the stairs. She arrived at her bedroom door puffing with nerves rather than exertion. Glancing swiftly round her room she spotted an apple box that had held the tree decorations. That would do. She would put some earth in it for Freddie and try to sneak out a couple of tin bowls from the kitchen when Bertie wasn’t looking. Maybe she could get away with it. Take Lizzie to her room to introduce her to Freddie. Her heart quickened as she imagined the child’s excited expression.
June glanced up at the clock, the only sound in her room. Five minutes had gone already. She needed to leave the puppy while she went to get him some water at least. And Matron would be demanding her tea.
She had to line the box with something. Desperate, she opened the wardrobe and pulled out the newspaper which lined the bottom of the inside of the cupboard. She spread it in the box, all the time trying to hold on to Freddie, who by this point was frantically trying to jump down and investigate the room. She set him down on the newspaper but he immediately scrambled out and whined.
‘I’ll have to get you something from Cook,’ she said to him, feeling a little silly knowing he had no way of understanding what on earth she was talking about. ‘But you must be patient. And quiet. No one must know you’re here. It will be our secret – and Lizzie’s.’ She lifted the puppy and sat on the edge of the bed with him on her lap, stroking him. He was such a dear little chap she could have sat with him all morning.
‘Be a good boy and I’ll be back with some food very soon.’
She put him back in the apple box, and again he struggled out on his little legs, whining. Worried as to what she’d let herself in for, she shut the door quietly behind her.
Swiftly June went to the kitchen and made a pot of tea, poured out a cup for Bertie, who was looking red and harassed, and took a tray into Matron’s office. She placed a cup on the desk in front of Matron, who was leaning back in her chair reading the Daily Express, not bothering to look up. June sat down and stirred her tea, reading the headline on the front page of the newspaper:
NO NAZI COLLAPSE BEFORE WE KNOCK HITLER OUT.
She was trying to work out what it meant when Matron finally smoothed the newspaper and folded it, then put it to one side. She looked up with her perpetual frown of disapproval.
June took a deep breath. She’d have to tell her Lizzie now slept in the girls’ dormitory. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Matron, but I thought we might take more than a few minutes and I was just on my way to the kitchen to make a cuppa for myself when you came in.’
‘I see.’ Matron’s lips pursed. ‘Well, now you’ve brought one for yourself I can hardly tell you to take it away.’
June kept silent. It was only a cup of blooming tea, for goodness’ sake. Honestly, when the boys up there were risking their lives every second … She put her hands around her cup to still them, picturing Murray and his pals trying to see where they were going in the dark; trying to spot enemy aircraft before they were spotted. It was too horrible to imagine. She gulped down some tea and Matron frowned harder but didn’t comment.
June broke the silence. ‘You wanted to see me, Matron.’
‘I certainly did. I’d dearly like to know what your – that young man was doing inside our home – without an invitation, I presume. Or did you invite him?’ She bent forward over her desk, her face only a foot or so away from June’s.
June swallowed. She could smell the acrid smoke on Matron’s breath and something stronger underneath.
‘No, Matron, I didn’t invite him here. He came to bring me something.’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
‘And what did he bring you, Miss Lavender?’ Matron’s lips were parted with a strange mixture of anger and curiosity. June decided the woman couldn’t bear it that something had gone on since she’d been away that she had had no control over.
‘Oh, it was n-nothing really,’ June stuttered, wondering what on earth she was going to say. Then she remembered the little gift Murray had put in her pocket.
‘I demand you tell me immediately.’ Matron’s nostrils flared as she pounded her fist on her desk. ‘The rule is that no young man is to set foot on these premises unless I give permission. There’s no telling what trouble the girls could get into. I’ve already had to dismiss one such girl – a kitchen maid – who was intimate, shall we call it’ – she looked at June with cold grey eyes – ‘and left with a bellyful of baby. I won’t have our reputation spoilt by a slip of a girl.’
June blushed bright red. ‘I’m not a slip of a girl, Matron. I’ve taken full responsibility since you’ve been away. Flight Lieutenant Andrews came to bring me a small gift, that’s all.’ She took the packet wrapped in Christmas holly paper out of her pocket and showed it.
‘Hmm!’ Matron eyed it with suspicion. ‘You haven’t opened it.’ Her tone was accusing.
‘I’m saving it until Christmas morning.’ What a bully the woman was. June tried to change the subject. ‘Have you seen the tree? The children are having a wonderful time decorating it.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen it. I nearly fell over a branch that had fallen on the step. It should have been cleared away. Jones and Draper could have seen to it – they’re old enough now. Any one of us could have tripped on it.’ She looked sharply at June. ‘Are all the decorations finished?’
‘Yes, the children spent some happy hours yesterday making paper chains and stringing them up,’ June said, thankful Matron had gone along with her. She usually hung on like a terrier if she was determined to know something. ‘You should go and see them. And we’ve got a small tree in the dining room that you might not have noticed when you came in. They’ve worked ever so hard. Especially the girls.’ She hesitated, then plunged in. ‘Even Lizzie joined in.’ Matron frowned but for once made no comment. ‘Do tell them they’ve done a good job,’ June rushed on. ‘They’re so keen to let the boys see they can do things just as well. Megan was showing off—’
‘I don’t need telling how to handle the orphans,’ Matron said, her lips in a thin line. ‘And by the way, I notice everything and don’t you forget it, my girl.’ She staggered to her feet and for a moment she almost overbalanced. June shot up and put out a steadying hand but Matron brushed her off as though she were an irritating fly. ‘That’s all, Miss Lavender. You may go.’
June picked up both empty cups and put them on the tray, her thoughts racing. Matron never stayed late after supper; never checked on the children in bed. She needn’t say anything to her about Lizzie moving to the dormitory. Maybe the least said the better. But before she got to the door she turned, feeling emboldened. ‘Matron, may I ask one thing?’
‘What is it?’
‘Why do we have to call the boys by their surnames? It seems so cold, somehow. I really think they’d flourish more if we used their Christian names and gave them some individual affection. Most of them long for it, I can tell.’
‘Aren’t you the clever one?’ Matron rolled her eyes. ‘How long have you been here?’ She glared at June, not looking as though she expected any reply. ‘They should think themselves lucky we use their surnames. When the homes were first opened the children were just known by their numbers.’
June stared at Matron in horror. That was awful. To be a numbe
r rather than a child with a name. A child with parents. A normal child. A feeling of sadness swept over her. These children weren’t normal. And they didn’t have normal lives or normal homes. Little Lizzie, who’d never spoken since her whole family had burned to death, except for those few words in the barn. Beth and her brother Lenny, who refused to be separated. They went everywhere together, clinging on to each other’s hands. At first June had thought it was sweet until she realised how much they craved motherly affection and were having to give comfort to each another. Then there was Alan, who’d behaved like a grown-up when Lizzie disappeared, but had lied to the other children about what had happened to his family. All he needed was encouragement. To be made to feel important and special. They all did. So why couldn’t Matron see that each one was unique with a different set of problems? She wanted to hug them all – the naughty ones as well as the good ones. Especially the naughty ones, who were only difficult because of their circumstances, some of them still trying to feel their way into a place they were forced to call home. But she’d never be able to explain to Matron as she could hardly find the right words herself.
‘Will your sister be on her own for Christmas?’ June asked, hoping to change what seemed to be a touchy subject.
Matron’s eyebrows met in a frown. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? That I’ve not done my duty by her? My God, if anyone hasn’t done their duty …’ She trailed off, a bitter expression on her face.
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ June said quickly. ‘I didn’t want to think of her on her own, that’s all. Or anyone, for that matter.’
‘My sister doesn’t celebrate Christmas, if you must know.’
‘Oh.’ June met her glare with a clear gaze. ‘Well, I hope you left your sister a little better than you found her,’ she said finally. ‘If that will be all, Matron, I’ll take the tray back to the kitchen.’
But Matron was already diving into her desk drawer for her cigarettes.
Chapter Fourteen
Murray lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair in the dispersal hut. It didn’t seem possible that the day after tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Dawn hadn’t even broken and the dozen or so pilots were mostly dozing or reading the newspaper. They looked relaxed but he knew for himself the tension was constantly running under their skins. The instant the signal came for the next scramble they would spring up and hurl themselves towards the aircraft no matter what time of day or night.
